To Break A Promise
by I Prey On Blonde Boys
Summary: Promises are like fine china. People are like bulls. Promises are easily broken. It only matters if there's a punishment. But the punishment usually comes after you break the promise. T for a hint of suggestive.


**To Break A Promise**

_"Her best days will be some of my worst_

_She finally met a man that's gonna put her first_

_While I'm wide awake, she has no trouble sleeping_

_'Cause when a heart breaks, no, it don't break even, even, no"_

_Breakeven by The Script_

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Here I am curled up on my bed with a blonde skank named, well actually I don't quite know her name I don't think I ever asked. My eyes are blurry from unshed tears and her hair smelt like alcohol. I feel drunk but I know I didn't drink more than one beer. Blonde Skank had fallen asleep hours ago while I lay here wishing I could go back. Go back to when someone entirely different was wrapped up in my arms, when that other someone actually wanted to be there. I wish she was here with me instead of wherever the hell she is right now.

Well that isn't true. I know where she is. She's at Brown across the country probably laying in the arms of that British Douche. She's sleeping her heart whole and clean while mine is shattered in my chest covered in the lies and mistakes. He gets to smell the chocolate of her and touch the porcelain, soft skin that I loved so much. William Blankenship was the perfect person in everyones eyes. He was patriotic and smart, wanted to go to Brown and he was well-mannered, he had a well established life style and career that would make sure that She had everything she'd ever need or want. I was nothing next to him. I wasn't patriotic in any way, my intelligence wasn't broadcasted like Blanks, I probably won't go to college and the last time I was ever polite to an adult was when I met Her father, my chosen career could hold up myself up from rock bottom but would send Her crashing down to the sharp rocks of poverty. He was everything and I was nothing.

I sidled out from under Blondie getting up from the bed and pulling on my boxers. Even though I felt nothing for the girl on my bed she was enough. When I was with her I could image that it was Her bouncing above me. That it was Her who moaned my name when she came. That it was Her that wanted me like Blondie wanted me. That it was Her who was in my room with me and wanted to be there. I stumbled through the hall of my trashy apartment to the bathroom. The mirror was my worst enemy lately.

I could see her standing behind me, clear as day as if she was really there. The cold, indifference of her eyes tore at the shreds of a heart that I had. The beauty that she carried without knowing it made me regret every slut I'd slept with. The way her brunette eyes glared at me with such a hate that I had to close my eyes. But I knew her too well. Her face was embedded on my eyelids and I opened my eyes again to find her still there. But this time it wasn't the Her that hated me it was the Her that loved me. The Her that loved me long before she found out about Jessie and I. The Her that understood me more than anyone. The Her that loved me. I closed my eyes and when I opened them I found the impossible strewn across my face. Tears.

The vision of her walking past me with a smile on her face that rose hopes I didn't know I had came to mind. But she stomped on those hopes in her combat boots when she wrapped her arms around Douche and kissed him right on the lips. I wished that the image was only a twisted vision made up by my brain but I'd seen this image more than once and the first time in real life. This was the mere memory of the day that Kat Stratford broke my heart.

But I remember clearly the day I broke hers. The day she found me in my bed with Jessie Fitzgerald, a curvy black haired slut that slept with anything she could get her hands on. The day that Kat kicked me to the curb tired of my angry tirades and cheating. That day was also the day that Kat chose Blank over me. The day that I lost Kat forever.

I just got stuck with the short stick. I got the pain and sleeplessness while she slept peacefully, fully content with her life at Brown with her long-term of two years boyfriend William Blankenship. I got the bigger half of the broken heart. Hearts don't break even sadly and someone has to get stuck with the bigger half and sadly it was me. Patrick Verona.

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A/N

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the made up situation. ABC family, the morons they are, own Patrick, Blank and Kat. I own Blonde Skank. ; )

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Oh and by the way you should totally listen to Breakeven by The Script.

It's amazing.


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